all_inclusive | Like shadows in the faded light, we're invisible.

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Like shadows in the faded light, we're invisible.

As if not being home wasn't bad enough, Dawn has been getting sicker and sicker by the day. She'd barely even been out of bed in a week. This morning she had rolled out of bed feeling just a little bit better after having slept for twenty-four hours straight. She had shuffled her way through a shower that only added to her feeling better. Wearing a white tank top with a purple glittered star on it and some purple pajama pants, she combed through the tangles in her hair and picked up a blow dryer to start working the heat through her hair. Today would be a straight hair sort of day, no curls because she didn't have the energy for it. As her hair dried, the steam slowly filtered away from the mirror, giving her a better image of herself in the reflection.

She dropped the blow dryer. Blinked. Looked again. Blinked again. Squinted her eyes. How could she see things behind her? Through herself? She looked behind her, just to check and make sure that she was seeing what was behind her through herself. Then she looked back to the mirror. She lifted her hand, seeing the bathroom counter through it. Her heartbeat thudded loudly in her chest. So loud that she swore she could feel it throughout her entire body inside and out.

And this is what had her barreling barefoot through the hotel hallways looking for Buffy or Angel or Peter or yes, even Faith who had no idea who she was. The ghostly see-through girl calling out as she ran from one place to another until she couldn't run anymore. "Buffy?" Each time she rounded a corner or hit a new floor or corridor of the hotel she called out. "Buffy!" She might run into people and apologize before she hurried on her way to find her sister. Or she might stop to talk if anyone wanted to.

Eventually, tired and spent, she would end up plopping down on one of the couches in the lobby, a box of kleenex beside her and a book in her lap. The couch could be seen through her and every once in awhile she lifted her hand to look through it at things, trying to gauge whether it was getting better or worse. Her eyes were puffy from crying. Her nose was red from sniffling. She was generally a train wreck of a person right now. But she figured anyone would be if they were slowly disappearing.

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He hears something - someone calling for Buffy. That name sounds familiar, though he's not sure he's managed to actually run into the person who owns it (given he spent who knows how long travelling in a strange blue box with a madman). Still, it gives him pause, so he stops where he is and looks down either direction of the corridor. Certainly whomever is calling will turn the corner at some point.

She does round the corner, too quickly, barreling forward with a speed borne out of an internal hysteria that's hard to squash down. A half invisible nineteen year old girl will run right into him with such force that she could knock him over if he isn't expecting it. "Buff-! Umph." Their collision is not a pretty one.

"Ohmigosh. Still solid. Still solid is a good thing. And ouch."

He's not expecting it. This leads to a spin and a stumble and a hard landing on the floor. Sliding into first he can do; being tackled, less so.

On the bright side he broke her fall?

"Normally I'd be flattered, but I think you're a little young for me," he says of the strangely translucent girl.

"I'm totally nineteen!" Which, yes, is young. But really, Dawn's perception of age difference is a little skewed given her close relationships with vampires. Spike and Buffy were a world of difference. And don't get her started on Angel and Buffy. And then there had been that one Slayerette, that girl, she had been younger than Buffy by several years. Just remembering the cougar jokes was enough to get a smirk out of her.

She slowly pushes herself up, rubbing the back of her hands over her damp cheeks. "I should learn not to run in the hallways like a good little hotel guest." She gets to her feet and holds a translucent hand out to help him up. "Sorry, I'm looking for my sister."

He smirks at her a bit. "And in most states of the union, that is considered an age of majority. However, I am forty, thus making me twice your age, but..." he trails off suggestively even as he's getting to his feet. He's almost entirely not serious about any of it; he just likes screwing with people.

"Is running in the hallways and bowling over lawyers going to make it easier for you to find her?" he asks. Clearly this is a quandray all on its own.

Can you see a disappearing person blush? Because she's blushing and quickly lets go of his hand once she's helped him get to his feet. "Well you know sometimes a girl needs a lawyer. I mean, I don't. But it's good to know that one's here if I do get into trouble. Legal kind of trouble, not the mystical kind of trouble."

One eyebrow arches up his forehead. This is all after the amusement at her stumbling-babbling wears off and she switches over to a mention os 'mystical' trouble.

Despite his trip to wherever-the-hell with the madman, he's still not sure he buys into all of these 'science fiction' sounding things.

"'Mystical kind of trouble'?" he parrots, because clearly this requires explanation.

"Yeah, you know, the kind that lawyers can't get you out of." Her nose wrinkles because she knows all about Wolfram & Hart. "Unless you're an evil lawyer... which happens. But mostly this would be a spell kind of thing. Magic less of the Penn an Teller kind and more of the actual magic kind. With witches and stuff. Possibly. Possible witches."

"One," he holds up a finger to illustrate, "there is no trouble that I could not get you out of from a legal perspective." He is a cocky bastard, but he's not wrong as far as he knows. "Second, most lawyers are evil to some degree," this is illustrated with a second finger - he's counting these off. "Third," the third finger is accompanied by narrowed eyes, "you expect me to believe in magic and witches?" Evil law firms are a given - he understands those - but witchcraft? Try again.

"You know I have no trouble believing in your lawyer-ess-ness or even that most lawyers are of the evil cause... cliche much? But hello." Her arms spread out to either side in a whole 'look at me' sort of way. Her purple glitter star pajamas probably take away from the tragedy of her translucence. "Ghost girl is standing right in front of you and you question magic and witches?"

Harvey frowns. And blinks.

"Wait - that's real?" he asks, waving a finger up and down, indicating her more-opaque-than-a-person-should-be state. "This isn't some trick with mirrors or special fabric?" All valid questions considering she's still solid as a rock and bowled his ass over not ten minutes ago.

"I wish." Dawn mutters, lowering her arms and sighing dramatically. "It would be so much cooler if it were like Harry's invisibility cloak or something. I mean, then you'd not only have a reason for it but also there's the geeky coolness factor. Cause... Harry Potter kind of magic."

"I'll remind you again that I'm not twelve," he says, indicating that while the Harry Potter reference isn't lost on him, the 'coolness' factor of it might be.

Back to the issue at hand though: "So, what exactly is going on here?" Meaning the see-through-ness, yet still solid thing. Because that? That's just fucking weird.

"Hey, grown-ups do the reading thing too." She protests. Dawn loves to read, every genre, classic or new... she's a book person. And she just can't understand people who aren't, including her sister.

She looks down at herself and pouts, shaking her head. "I'm not sure, actually. I think someone did a spell. Trying to get to my sister through me, probably. People like to mess with her and sometimes try to kill her. Or maybe they did it to distract he while they try to make the world get all explode-y."

"They do," he confirms about the reading. "And I do my share, but not Harry Potter." Though, the last time he read something that wasn't a legal document or book or the newspaper, it was for something related to his job. The man doesn't do a lot of pleasure reading. Music is his thing.

"So you think someone is trying to get to your sister, through you, and making you transparent is a way to do that? I'm not sure what that's supposed accomplish," he comments. "As for 'exploding' the world - that's a pretty tall order, unless I really missed what happened in science class."

"Well... it's..." It is pretty far fetched, but not unheard of. They've all been used to distract Buffy or lure Buffy or even break Buffy at one point or another. Every single family member, every single close friend. It was a part of being in the Slayer's life. And right now, that was all she had as far as ideas went. She wasn't that important except to people trying to tear down the walls between realities or people trying to get to her sister. And most people didn't know she was the key. The Slayer's sister? Common knowledge. "It's the best idea I've got. Do you have a better one?"

"Well, first I'd need to know why your sister is so goddamned important, to know if that's even a feasible idea. Because otherwise," he offers a little shrug, "who gives a shit?"

Obviously, see-through girl thinks her sister is hot shit, but Harvey doesn't know either of them from a hole in the ground... as best he can...

"Wait - what'd you say your sister's name was again?"

"She saves the world a lot. Like a super hero minus the spandex and cape?" Dawn answers. And yes, Dawn is Buffy's biggest fan. No one gets to talk bad about Buffy except for her and that's only a sister's prerogative sort of thing. "Her name is Buffy. Blond and tiny and able to kill the evilest of the evil with her pinky finger?"

"How often does the world need saving?" he asks, more rhetorical than anything else.

It takes a moment, but the name manages to push through and he frowns at her. "I think I was her secret Santa," he comments half-idly. It's wholly unrelated to the current conversation, but the name was familiar.

"So, back to your issue - who do you think did this?"

"You'd be surprised. My saves the world a lot." It had been on her tomb stone, actually, one of the times she died and came back (thanks goodness). Buffy Summers - She saved the world a lot. No lies. No exaggeration.

"Oh! I bet she really enjoyed... whatever. She likes presents without the birthdays or the mass mayhem." Dawn rambles. Talking about her sister is so much easier than talking about whatever is going on with her. She doesn't like the implications of what's happening here.

She's quiet for a few moments. "A witch or... or just the universe in general setting things back the way it should be."

"I'd repeat my question, but I'm not sure it's relevant." He shakes his head.

Then he watches her bouncing a bit - about presents. "Bubble bath, I think," he says. Christmas was a while ago and Harvey isn't the best at picking out presents without a list. Another frown and he wags a finger. "You have a strange, yet intriguing, life," he says.

He doesn't make it a habit of repeating people, but... "'Back the way it should be?'"

"Yeah, I'm kind of... not supposed to exist." She adds quickly after that. "And not supposed to talk about it so sayeth my sister. You know, just in case any evil lawyers wanna destroy the world. It happens."

If he were part of the Scooby gang, he'd likely utter something along the lines of 'who's-a-what-now?'. But he's not, so he says, "Come again?"

He's starting to wonder if he's not losing it.

"Of course," he says of her not talking about her existance that shouldn't, "who would believe a story like that?"

He's not exactly sure what to do with any of this information.

"It's kind of ridiculous right?" She answers in response to who would believe such a thing. She even goes so far as to smirk. She remembers the time Buffy got injected with a toxin that had made her believe she was crazy, that her entire life had been made up, including Dawn. Easy to believe for normal people who had no experience in the subject.

"You won't tell anyone?" She asks him.

He draws out his phone (that doesn't actually work here) and feigns sending a text message.

"I'm renting a billboard on Times Square right now," he says, poker face fully in place.

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